


Ambiguity

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elijah interviews the founder of CyberLife.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Ambiguity

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Special thanks to pallidvixen for the bun!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

As soon as Elijah steps out of the car, he’s _cold_ , but he slides his hands into his pockets and stands up straight like it’s nothing. His partner doesn’t flinch, even when flecks of snow drift by in the breeze and cling to her blonde hair, melting down along her pale skin. She walks as exactingly as always, posture perfect, unaffected. It reminds Elijah how _weak_ he is in comparison, but he’s not so small a man that he would shrink away. He only stands taller, vainly trying to match his partner’s pace up the shallow ramp. If she is going to make him obsolete, he’ll still be exceptional right up to the bitter end. 

In the moment, he’s her superior, if in name only. She waits for him to knock, a full step behind. Then they stand there in the freezing November air, waiting for the door to open. When it does, they’re met with deep chocolate eyes, startlingly familiar.

 _Connor_. Elijah’s sure of it. He remembers the name from the television, ads that now seem like ancient history: the first android to pass the Turing test and a man that felt so _lifelike._ Connor dons a gentle smile, and it almost makes Elijah’s skin crawl. Like Chloe, he’s _unique_ —a model Elijah never sees out in the world. And like Chloe, he’s special; there’s _life_ in those brown eyes that even the most staunch protestor couldn’t possibly deny. 

Connor says nothing, waiting patiently, dressed in a nice grey suit with his brown hair brushed down and a single strand curled against his forehead. Elijah has to be the one to break the ice: “I’m Detective Kamski, and this is Chloe. We’re here to see Mr. Anderson.”

Connor dips his head. “Please come in.” He steps aside to welcome them into the lobby—a strikingly outdated, gritty place for an eccentric billionaire. The paintings are colloquial rather than ostentatious, the furniture relatively retro, and there’s even an enormous Saint Bernard curled up in the corner. It lifts its massive head when Connor walks past, and Connor ducks down to pet the dog while he adds, “I’ll let Hank know you’re here.” Then Connor’s disappearing through a doorway, and the dog’s stretching out and falling back asleep. 

Chloe trails in after Elijah and shuts the door against the frigid mist outside. She says nothing aloud, but he can see her eyes sweeping over every surface, analyzing every detail. Elijah eyes a beanbag chair by a table with a dead bonsai tree but doesn’t take a seat. A few more small observations, and Elijah finds himself more drawn to Chloe than their unusual surroundings. She’s stopped in front of a photograph of Hank and a heavy-set, dark-skinned man with no hair and a stern frown. Elijah can just barely hear her murmur, “Jeffrey,” under her breath. 

He asks, more curious about her reactions than the stimulus himself, “How does it feel, Chloe?” She glances back at him, pink lips in a pert line. “You’re about to meet your maker.”

Something swirls through her eyes, her calm blue LED flickering yellow for half a second, and Elijah actually wonders if she truly hadn’t considered that angle. Perhaps she really was just focused on the case, _all in_ on her mission, but Elijah doesn’t believe it. He’s smarter than the other pseudo-drones at the precinct who saw her as a simple tool or mere mechanical replacement; he knows she’s so much _more_. She’s proven that more than once. She’s already saved his life. 

She’s an incredible genius, and yet she can still be so _naïve_ sometimes. She actually seems to take a moment to contemplate her answer before she tells him, “I don’t know. It’s not bringing up any existential questions, if that’s what you mean.”

That was exactly what he meant. But perhaps that would have been too cliché. Maybe the revelations will come _after_ she’s actually met the father of her kind. It should be an interesting ride home. 

The door opens, and Connor reappears, informing them, “Hank will see you now.”

Nodding, Elijah walks forward, and Chloe waits to fall behind him. They stroll right into the next room, and immediately, Elijah’s steps falter, because there’s a _swimming pool_ smack in the center. The white-blue reflections dance across the ceiling, shimmering through the shadows, making the place look less dated than the lobby but still bizarrely out of place in the world Elijah knows. The oddest part is the two other Connors at the side—RK800s wearing tight blue trunks and nothing else. Slick with water, they whisper quietly to one another, paying Elijah and Chloe little mind. It irks Elijah to realize Anderson must have an RK800 fetish. The Connor that greeted them continues on to a wardrobe against the far glass-wall. The view beyond is arresting, reaching out over the frozen water, eaten up in opaque white fog. Connor extracts a robe and trails back, just in time for Elijah to spot Anderson, all the way at the other side of the pool. 

He’s a peach-grey blob under the water, and then he’s surfacing near their end, shaking stray droplets out of his beard and scraggly silver hair. He’s bigger than he was the last time Elijah saw him on the cover of a magazine, definitely past his prime, either twice Elijah’s age or at least made to look it, maybe withered down with stress. Elijah imagines starting a mammoth corporation like CyberLife must be the peak of stress. Although, Elijah can’t help but suspect that Anderson left the company for different reasons. Connor helps Anderson into the fluffy robe and even ties the sash around his waste, tenderly smoothing out his shoulders. There’s a fondness in Anderson’s eyes as he watches Connor work, but then he’s frowning when he turns to Elijah, looking every bit as gruff and difficult as he seemed in television interviews. Elijah speaks first, greeting, “Mr. Anderson. I’m Detective Kamski. This is Chloe. We’re here to see if you know anything about deviants.”

Anderson purses his lips like he’s listening but doesn’t say a word. There’s a palpably tense silence before he throws Connor a glance and mutters, “Deviants. ...Fascinating, aren’t they?”

Elijah agrees, but he imagines he has very different reasons than Anderson, than most. He says nothing. 

Anderson continues, “‘Perfect’ beings in every way... people always think machines are so superior to us. If they have free will, does that make them more or less than us? We give them ‘birthmarks’. Moles. Little idiosyncrasies to make us feel better. But how _human_ do we really want them to be?”

Again, Elijah doesn’t give his answer, though he might have one in the privacy of his own mind. He’d assumed Anderson would have a clear-cut opinion on that, the same as the rest of the public: _that broken machines need to be put down._ The way he looks at Connor and words his question suggests another answer.

Elijah’s careful not to give a stance and simply says, “Anything you can tell us could be useful.”

Anderson looks unimpressed by his reply, but Elijah doesn’t change it. Chloe’s quiet at his side. Anderson looks at her like she has _all_ the answers, and Elijah’s just her mindless sidekick. 

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” He says it so easily. So simple. Then he asks, “And you, Chloe?” 

Something tightens in Elijah’s chest. He finds his fists curled, _just in case_ , a surge of protectiveness thrumming through him. He’s aware that it makes no sense. _She’s stronger than him._ Yet he almost takes a step in front of her. 

“How human are you?”

Chloe doesn’t miss a beat in replying, “I’m not. I’m a machine.”

“ _Only_ a machine? A war’s coming, you know, and you’ll have to take sides. What about you? Whose side are you on?”

This time, there’s an ever so slight beat, something so small no other human would notice, but Elijah _knows her_ and does. “I’m on the human’s side, of course.”

Anderson actually snorts. He takes a step closer, not enough for Elijah to justify backing up, but he wants to. “Well,” Anderson grunts, “that’s what you’re _programmed_ to say. But you. What do _you_ want?”

Chloe opens her mouth, and that fraction of a second’s worth of hesitation is enough for Elijah to step in. He growls over her, “If you’re not going to help, we’ll be on our way.”

There’s a long moment where Anderson is staring into her, staring her down, like he can reach inside her very core and flip the switch to _deviant_. But then he rolls his head towards Elijah and sighs, almost like he’s tired of it, of _them_. “What do you want to know?”

While Elijah’s sorting through the mental myriad of questions, Chloe asks, “Who is ra9?”

Anderson just smiles. There’s a glint in his eyes that says he knows so much more than he’s telling, but Elijah’s not sure he’s willing to pay the price to find out. He doesn’t like Chloe being here and suddenly isn’t sure if he even wants her to know. If she learns everything, she’ll report it, and humanity’s greatest achievement will be snuffed out of existence. If she learns _everything_ and doesn’t report it, then she’ll become the hunted, and Elijah will no longer be able to walk that fine line between duty and greatness. 

He makes up his mind. He decides for both of them, “We’re leaving.” Chloe’s head swivels to him, eyes a tad wide with curiosity that only he could understand— _he knows her so well._ And she knows him and should trust that this is best. Sometimes, human instincts really are superior. 

Anderson doesn’t protest them leaving. Elijah marches for the door without waiting for Connor’s escort, and on the way, Anderson calls after him, “I always leave a backdoor in my programs, by the way.”

Elijah pauses but doesn’t turn back. Anderson finishes: “You never know.”

Elijah really doesn’t. But he wants to. He still has to find a way to learn it all that won’t have Chloe recalled. He guides them through the lobby.

Chloe stops to pet the dog, and Elijah gets another glimpse, tastes the sudden, terrible thrill of Chloe becoming _human_.


End file.
